Forgive and Forget
by TP Knight
Summary: Ghouls aren't scary and they aren't very dangerous. Gilderoy Lockhart will have to utilize his skills outside of Memory Charms to change that perception, and make his next book to die for.


_I believe Viper Ghouls, in my **very** humble but expert opinion, are some of the most underrated creatures in the wizarding world. True to their slimy, snake-like appearance, Viper Ghouls are notoriously hard to find and even harder to corner. Why it took yours truly forty-five minutes to coax one right out from a woman's private dresser (not that I blame him for it). _

_The most dangerous aspect of a Viper Ghoul is their slow-acting venom that oozes from their body, making them impossible to touch directly. If not treated immediately, the venom will kill the unsuspecting victim within a fortnight, while hiding from detection by displaying the symptoms of a common head cold. _

_Much like their cousin the Chameleon Ghoul, Viper Ghouls are masters of deception..._

_- Excerpt from Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart_

* * *

A gaudy looking wizard approached an old two-story cottage settled in a forest nearby a local village. He politely knocked twice on the door, before he was greeted by a short but sprightly elderly woman. Upon looking at her, his eyes sincerely gleamed with recognition.

"Mrs Oleander, it has simply been too long. You haven't aged a day over fifty-five! I bet you have to beat all the gentlemen callers back with a stick," said Gilderoy Lockhart. For good measure, he flashed her a roguish smile, the same one that won Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award five times.

It seemed to have worked its own magic as a flush of embarrassment rose to her cheeks. "As charming as ever," the woman said. "And please, call me Gwendela. Nobody has called me Missus since poor Ulrich passed away."

Gilderoy shook his head in dismay. "I heard about that. I would have stopped by for the burial, but I was saving a village from the Wagga Wagga Werewolf at the time."

Gwendela looked at him with an appreciative look, but said nothing more on the subject, instead motioning the handsome wizard to come inside.

The interior was just as plain and humble as the exterior, lacking any sort of decoration besides a couple of muggle photographs of the elders couple and a handmade wooden rocking chair. It was simplicity personified.

Gilderoy Lockhart was disgusted by it.

He hid his feelings under a playful smile and a charming wink, which continued to swoon his elderly host. And he kept his Cheshire grin as he offered to make some tea as they caught up and discussed his latest book, _Wanderings with Werewolves_.

His smile became genuine as his pulled out a vial of clear liquid from his sleeve, and allowed a few drops to "accidentally" fall into Gwendela's cup.

"Tea's ready!"

* * *

For nearly a fortnight, Gilderoy politely engaged in pretenses, pretending to have an unusual amount of interest in Gwendela's fledgling excuse for a social life while he continued to poison her tea.

The effects were minimal at first, and Gilderoy's phony concerns were initially dismissed. As the days passed, Gwendela started to feel a bit under the weather, to the point where she tried to call off their daily " tea dates" as she called them.

Using the enormous amount of experience under his belt, Gilderoy Lockhart proceeded to shower the sickly woman with enough attention to make even his mirror reflection green with envy. He gave her foot massages ("A technique I learned in Albania to help ease discomfort."), serenaded her with the help of a few pudgy dwarves, and even read to her some of his books.

It was the most unpleasant experience Gilderoy had ever put himself through. He wouldn't have minded as much if Gwendela were a few years younger – or a few decades younger – but his posturing finally yielded results.

Ulrich Oleander came from a family of wealth, but anyone in the village who knew who he was wouldn't have guessed it from a glance. Ulrich and his wife were simple people with simple means; wealth meant nothing to them, so long as they had each other. Unfortunately, they never had any children, and no living relatives.

Gilderoy had to suffer through the bedridden woman's life story first, but learning that the elderly woman was sitting on a large inheritance made the experience worth every galleon.

* * *

"Gilderoy...come here..."

Gilderoy Lockhart, now dressed in lilac colored robes adorned with white crescent moons, knelt before her bedside and clasped her cold, bony hand into his. He hung his head low, a practiced melancholy look on his face. "Gwendela..." he managed to choked out.

"Gilderoy, please. I am dying. I don't want you to carry an unnecessary burden. I doubt even you could have figured out that it was Viper Ghoul venom that was killing me."

He held in a snort of laughter.

The old bat didn't even know that a Viper Ghoul didn't attack her; it didn't even _exist_. It was easy to convince her otherwise though, with a well placed smile and a properly timed wink as he explained it. And how could she deny him when he's dealt with banshees, trolls, and even werewolves?

Gwendela had opened her mouth to say something, but Gilderoy held up a finger and pressed it against the dying woman's lips. He leaned forward until he was breathing into her ear. "It wasn't a Viper Ghoul that poisoned you," Gilderoy whispered. "It was me."

A few minutes later, Gwendela Oleander succumbed to her sickness. When her will was read, she left all of her possessions and money to a Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart.

* * *

"...and so when I had it cornered, it went into the closest object to hide in, which just so happened to be the enchanted tea-strainer I placed as a trap. Poor bugger couldn't even make a noise."

Laughter erupted from a ostentatious and flamboyantly dressed wizard, who looked completely out of place in the seedy tavern. After a couple of minutes, the laughter had been subdued, and the handsome wizard took another sip from his glass of firewhiskey.

"My friend, you tell some of the most outrageous stories about ghouls. I can't believe how exciting the Ghoul Task Force is!" The man flashed his partner a toothy smile. "I've dealt with a couple of ghouls myself. A Viper Ghoul attacked a dear old friend of mine once. I contained the creature, but was too late to save her from its venom."

The large, bearded man stared at him silently. "Viper Ghoul, eh? Don't think I ever heard of those."

"They are quite the rare specimen. Very snakelike in their appearance just like the name suggests. A very crafty creature, I assure you."

The bearded Ghoulbuster downed the rest of his firewhiskey in one large swallow, before continuing to to stare. "Let me assure _you_, Mr. Lockhart, that in all my time in the Ghoul Task Force, I don't remember ever coming across a 'Viper Ghoul', either out on the field or in study."

The smile that was plastered upon his face vanished, replaced with a brooding glance. "No," Gilderoy said, briskly whipping out his wand and pointing it in between the large man's beady eyes. "I shan't say you'll remember much of anything after this."

Gilderoy took a moment to enjoy the wide-eyed expression on the man's face.

It was the same expression Gwendela Oleander had when she learned of his treachery.

"_Obliviate." _


End file.
